[a/n] Special thanks to Anthea and the Lord of the Rings Random Ficplot Generator: () and Kero from the OFUM list, who generated the random plot and shared.

Colonel Dirtyfishydishcloth and the lyrics to Winter belong to Tori Amos

Lord of the Rings, and all characters and concepts therein, belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and the Tolkien estate.

Gretel, alas, is mine.  She is not a real person.  She is not a self-insert.  She is a product of my diseased imagination.

No animals were harmed in the writing of this fic.

Bob is a very nice name.

I think I mentioned it in my description, but this is, by nature of the random plot generated, and AU fic, and there are purposeful wild divergences from canon.

I honor Gimli Elf-Friend. I would not bash him. I'm sure he could thrash me from here to infinity if he so desired. He deserves nothing but the utmost respect--and a girl to keep around for a pleasure-slave when the desire comes upon him.
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The Woeful tale of Princess Dirtyfishydishiel

Four: In Which There Are Riddles

"What has it got in its pocketses?" Gretel heard from her state of semi-consciousness.  She cracked an eye open to see Gollum inching his way towards her.  His hands were bound together, as were his feet.  Yet still, on elbows and knees, he was making his way, hissing to himself. 

Gretel screamed. 

Several Rangers and two Elves had weapons drawn immediately. 

"We see nothing," said one of the Elves--Gretel still couldn't tell them apart.  Of course, once she was married to Legolas, she wouldn't ever have to worry about them again.  After all, Legolas lived through the War of the Ring, and he married Princess Dirtyfishydishiel.  Two elves named Ella-something and Elro-something-else never made it into the tale of passion and love between Legolas and Princess Dirtyfishydishiel. 

Except in person, they were really hot. 

Aragorn grabbed her by her shoulder and forcibly turned her to face him.  "You would do well, my Lady, to remain silent and try not to get us all killed with your screeching." 

Gretel's lower lip trembled, but she nodded.  Aragorn seemed to have an ability to give a look as if he was about to kill you--and enjoy doing so--if you did not comply with his wishes. 

It was quickly decided that since everyone was awake, it was time to get moving again.  Once more, Gollum was trussed up like a papoose and strapped to the back of one of the Elves.  As the line of Rangers, Elves, and Gretel marched through Mirkwood, Gretel found herself looking at Gollum. 

Gollum stared back. 

And stared...

And stared... 

"Stop that!" Gretel said. 

Gollum smiled in triumph.  It wasn't a very pretty sight; one that Gretel never wanted to see again in her life. 

"It stared at us first," Gollum hissed. 

Gretel frowned.  "Well how can I help but stare at such an ugly misshapen freak like you!" she spat finally. 

Gollum grinned again, as if he were echoing her words back at her.  This smile seemed worse than the last.  "Does it know riddles?" Gollum asked. 

Gretel shrugged.  There wasn't much else to pass the time while they walked (and walked and walked for eternity).  She had skimmed the Hobbit; she knew of the game.  "Sure," she said finally.

Gollum smiled for the third time in as many minutes, giving Gretel the willies once more.  "We goes first," Gollum declared.  "What is always in the future but never in the present?" he asked. 

For about ten steps, Gretel thought on that, but she finally shook her head.  "I don't know.  I give up."

Gollum rolled his eyes.  "Tomorrow," he said. "We wins!  You think up one now." 

Gretel wracked her brain, but couldn't come up with any riddles she knew.  Really stupid jokes, yes, but riddles?  "What is your name?" Gretel asked. 

"Gollum," Gollum replied.  "We wins again!  At night they come without being fetched, and by day they are lost without being stolen."

Gretel pondered that one.  "The stars?" she asked. 

Gollum looked sullen.  "Drats," he muttered.  "Now you thinks of one and make it better."

Once again, Gretel's mind was blank for riddles, so she followed down the same course she had started before.  "What is your quest?" she asked him. 

Gollum immediately started thrashing in his bindings.  "Precious!" he called.  "Precious!  We wants it!  Stupid Hobbit!  Precious!  Precious!"  His hissing esses were swallowed up by the dark forest on either side of the path.  

He continued to thrash around until the Elf carrying him turned to face Gretel.  "Do you mind?" he asked.  "If you think it's so much fun to provoke him, why don't you try carrying him around?"

"Sorry," Gretel muttered, trying to feel contrite. 

"Elladan," the Elf carrying Gollum called.  "Rope!"

Gollum silenced immediately.  "Each morning I appear to lie at your feet, all day I will follow no matter how fast you run, yet I nearly perish in the midday sun.  What is I?" Gollum chanted in the blessed silence that followed. 

"I don't..." Gretel started before she even started thinking about it.  "Wait, it's your shadow!" she said, pleased she was actually getting the hang of it.  "What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?" she pounced. 

With a completely straight face, Gollum replied, "Easterling or Rhohirric?"

Gretel blinked for a moment, and then shook her head.  Africa and Europe didn't exist in Middle-earth.  "Fine!" she said.  "What do I have in my pocket?" pulling out the proverbial trump-card riddle that Bilbo had used in The Hobbit

The smile that Gollum smiled was at least ten times worse than the ones that had graced his face before.  "What does it have in its pocketses?" Gollum asked.  Gretel got the feeling that Gollum was the proverbial cat toying with a crippled mouse.  "It has got nothing in its pocketses.  It is just happy to see us." 

The lewd joke on Gollum's lips almost made her want to throw up.  Except the trees were laughing at her.  She didn't know how she knew, but she had the feeling that the trees were laughing.  She heard the trees laughing.

And then there were Elves everywhere; so many Gretel didn't know which one to drool over.  "We have not had such amusement since watching the Dwarves come through, oh, years ago!" the Elf in charge remarked to Aragorn. 

Legolas. 

Gretel's heartbeat increased.  This was it!  This was what happened in Princess Dirtyfishydishiel's tale!  Legolas took one look at her and said...

"What is that?" Legolas asked Aragorn. 

The Ranger looked at Gretel then back to Legolas.  "A favor from a very important personage."  Aragorn handed Legolas the scroll he carried. 

Legolas read the scroll, shaking his head every so often.  And then he went pale.  "What a horrid doom!" he gasped.  "I would not wish that upon any creature!  I would rather it be an Orc," Legolas continued, just staring at the scroll, as if he were trying to comprehend what was written there.

Gretel's heart soared.  Legolas hated her!  Just like in her story!  He'd be in love with her in no time! 

"Come," Legolas said, gesturing to the Rangers and Elves.  "My Elf Lord awaits." 

~*~

It was a cave?  Thranduil's sparkling palace was a cave?  A dark, dank, dirty, musty cave?  Ok, so it wasn't dark, dank, dirty, or musty.  But it was still a cave.  No balconies.  No gardens.  Nothing.  It wasn't out of a fairy-tale.  It wasn't out of a children's story!  Well, it was, but not the ones that counted.  At least not to Gretel.  What kind of self-respecting king lived in a cave?  It was... a cave! 

And the Elves seemed to like it! 

It's not like the palace was under renovations or something.  It hadn't been burned to the ground in a terrible fire.  It didn't exist.  There was no palace.  Just a cave in a dark terrible forest with giant spider webs.  It was miserable.  How was Princess Dirtyfishydishiel supposed to live in a cave? 

She didn't care that it was a magnificent cave, with doors that sealed up and only those who knew the secret were able to open them.  She didn't care that there was the river running beneath the cave where barrels were downstream to the colony of Men, and rowed back upstream laden with goods.  She didn't care that it was a wholesome cave--not dank and dark like Orc caves.  It was still a cave, and nothing like the sparkling palace she had envisioned for Princess Dirtyfishydishiel.  It was all just so... rustic.  So... woodsy.   Stupid Wood-Elves.  How dare they have a woodsy feel to them!   How dare Mirkwood be dark and murky!  Stupid Tolkien having things make sense and having things live up to their names!  

She sat on the edge of a clearing outside Thranduil's cave, watching Leoglas, rubbing her sore feet, and pouting.  Legolas, of course, ignored her.  Still, she could hear echoes of Gollum's revenge being repeated between the Elves, causing no end to the merry laughter.  "She was just happy to see him!"